


Everything

by ivyscribbles (all_choseny)



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 19:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_choseny/pseuds/ivyscribbles
Summary: Expansion of scenes from S04x07. Brigitte has an opportunity to run away from Charles who is keeping her prisoner while England is at war with France. While under siege the pair fall in love amidst their warring countries.





	Everything

She was his prisoner. Brigitte wasn’t sure why. She had no more information about the French war efforts than her father. Yet, the Duke had let her father go. When she asked him directly why he continued to keep her, he refused to answer. But she saw something in his eyes—a deep sadness that Brigitte had never seen before. It tugged at her heart when she should have been cursing him. Brigitte didn’t know this Duke, but he didn’t seem like the other Englishmen. He was different. He was good. She looked at the tent where he slept and hesitated. _Why am I doing this? Why I am I going back._ Brigitte had a chance to get away. She longed to see her father again. She missed him terribly. After her mother’s death, her father was all she had. Brigitte thanked God every day that Charles had spared him. _Charles._ Since when had she started referring to the duke by his first name? With a heavy sigh, Brigitte made her way into the tent where he slept.

He looked so peaceful laying on his cot. Brigitte studied him quietly for a long time. He looked sad even in repose. Brigitte inched closer to him and noticed the cut on his forehead. Her movements stirred him out of his sleep. She watched as he blinked his eyes and came to. He looked confused to see her at first. Brigitte quickly grabbed a cloth and dampened it with some water. 

“You’re hurt,” she said. Her voice was filled with concern. It surprised her. Brigitte dabbed at his cut, wiping away the dried blood. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low. 

Brigitte leaned back on her knees. _What was she doing there? Why had she come back?_ Brigitte asked herself again. He looked at her again with his doe eyes and she knew why she had come back. She came back to him. “I escaped,” she answered him truthfully. “But then I came back.” 

Charles looked at her curiously. Neither of them knew what to say. She had broken her promise to him. But she had come back to him and for him. When she returned, she expected anger. Instead, she saw...relief. Charles hesitated before he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her lips. She had imagined this moment often over the past few weeks. It was better than anything she could have dreamed. His kiss was tender as he explored her mouth with his. Brigitte opened herself to him and it. Before she realized it she was lying beneath him as he rained kisses over her face and down her throat. 

Brigitte tilted her hips up and rubbed them against him. He was ready for her. She gasped as a shiver seized her body in anticipation. His hands were eager as he ripped through her garments. The sound of tearing cloth rivaled the sounds of her excited moans. Charles groaned as he freed her breast and kissed her feverishly. He worked his way down her torso until his hand found her. Brigitte let out a moan and closed her eyes. She opened for him and cried out when he entered her. Charles groaned loudly as he sank into her. His body shook in pleasure. Brigitte wrapped her arms around him as their lips found each other once again. 

++++

She rested her head on his chest and sighed. They made love several times after their first frenzied time together. Brigitte plucked as his chest hair and looked up at him. When she came back to his tent, she hadn’t expected this… well, she didn’t know what she expected. 

“Are you alright?” Charles asked, breaking the silence. 

Brigitte nodded her head. “Yes… are you?”

The Duke chuckled, his chest rumbled with the deep sound of his delight. “Yes. More than alright.” 

Brigitte smiled and planted a kiss on his chest. She wondered if he knew that he was her first. She had many suitors, but none of them interested her enough to go to bed with them. Charles placed a finger under her chin, so he could look into her brown eyes. 

“Are you sure?” he asked her tenderly. 

She blushed a rosy shade of pink and smiled. “Yes, your grace…” 

“Charles.” He corrected her. “Please, call me Charles.” 

“Yes… Charles,” she obliged, making him smile. They were silent again. Brigitte could hear the chirp of bugs outside of the tent. The night was uncharacteristically still. There were no canon blasts or sounds of rowdy men. It was as if the world stood still so she could have this moment with him. 

“Why did you come back?" 

Brigitte looked up at him. She didn’t want to tell him she came back because she had fallen in love with him. Somehow in all of this war, his kindness had touched her, and she had fallen for the Duke with the sad eyes. “Because I promised I wouldn’t run away.” 

Charles nodded his head. He looked as if he wanted to say more but decided not to push her. “I’m glad you came back,” he said simply. 

So was she. 

++++

He couldn’t stay with her no matter how much he wanted to. Charles looked down at Brigitte as she rested beside him on the small cot. It was built big enough to fit one person but somehow, they had managed to sleep together comfortably throughout the night. Charles thought about the many times they had made love. She had been a maiden. He hadn't known until it was too late. Charles wanted to feel bad about it, but he couldn’t. He had thought about making love to her often. She was a very beautiful woman. But it was more than that. She was more than just a pretty face. He saw the way she cared for her father. She had pretended to be a soldier, so she could fight beside him in a war that neither of them wanted. 

She was beautiful, yes. But she was also brave and loyal. He admired that about her. Charles looked up at the pleats in his tent. In all of his years, he could count the few times that he actually admired a woman. In his youth, they were nothing more than a means to an end. He enjoyed women. He enjoyed sex immensely. His first wife, Margaret had been the first woman he loved. But he couldn’t say he admired her. And Catherine… he didn’t like to think of her. 

Charles sat up careful not to disturb Brigitte so he could dress and meet the King. Despite his night of passion, there was still a war to fight. He ran a finger down her cheek, touching her face tenderly. She said she had come back because of the promise… he hoped that there was something more. 

++++

The war was over. England had finally defeated France after the many years of feuding with the Dauphin of France. His Grace, King Henry was elated. Charles was just tired. He was ready to return home to his quiet estate away from the noise and from court. He missed his home. He missed his son. With a heavy heart, he entered his tent. She was still there. The war had ended hours before. She’d been free to go along with the other prisoners. Now that England was victorious, they served no purpose. Charles sucked in a deep breath. He was happy to see her. She had spent the night with him every night since the first night they were together. They made love often into the wee hours of the morning. And when they didn’t make love, they spoke quietly with each other in hushed French. He loved hearing her laughter when his English accent interfered with his French. She would gently correct him with a smile. 

Charles wasn’t sure when or why it happened, but he had fallen in love with her. It stunned him at first. He had spent the last few years pining away for, Catherine, his estranged wife. At first, he had vowed to win her affections again. But after some time, it became clear that any love she had for him had dried up. He supposed he deserved her spurning his love. He had broken her heart too many times to count. If it wasn’t the women, it was his loyalty to the throne that had finally broken them. Still, he loved her. Even now, he loved her. But he was also in love. 

“I am free to go?” Brigitte asked. 

“Yes, you’re free to go,” he said to her. The words burned in his throat. _Please don’t go._

Brigitte didn’t look at him as she folded up her meager belongings. “You didn’t ask for ransom” Her tone was light, but Charles could have sworn he heard a waver. Could that mean she also felt something, too?

“No, I didn’t ask for ransom,” he replied. 

Brigitte’s hands stopped moving, and she looked at him with wide hurt-filled eyes. They glistened with moisture. “Then you do not think I am worth anything?” This time her voice did crack. 

_Oh, God, no!_ She was worth everything to him. Couldn’t she tell? Couldn’t she feel how much she had come to mean to him? “You…are… worth… everything,” he assured her while gathering her in his arms. He wished he had the words to tell her how much she meant to him. But would she believe him? Would she believe that she had become an important piece of his life in such a short amount of time? He could hardly believe it himself. “Come back with me,” he said instead. 

Brigitte ducked her head. When she looked back up at him, a frown had creased her brow. “Why? So, I can be your mistress? Your French whore?” There was pain in her brown eyes. 

Charles shook his head. “No.” How could she even say that about herself? She was his…beloved. 

“Then what?” 

Then what? He couldn’t marry her. He was still married to Catherine. And despite their estrangement, Catherine would never divorce him. A divorce would go against everything she believed in. She had become quite fanatical in her faith over the years. Mistress. Whore. None of those crass words fit Brigitte. There were no words that could describe what she meant to him. She had rescued him from the depths of despair and breathed new life into his miserable existence. What do you call that? 

“ _Je T’aime_ ,” he said in her native tongue. It was all he could manage. It was the only thing he could say. “ _Je T’aime cest tout_.” 

Somehow those simple words spoke to the essence of her. Their meaning cut deep. Brigitte lifted a hand and caressed his cheek. His eyes told her everything that she needed to know. There was no pretense in his words. He loved her. And for now, that was all. Charles dipped his head and planted a soft kiss on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. 

_I love you. I love you, that's all._

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to use the prompts from one of the fluff bingo cards to dip into different fandoms and pairings, but as the admin I decided not to participate.


End file.
